Anyone for a Love Charm?
by Sandy Bubbles
Summary: A love charm that Fred & George cast on Hermione and Ron for a joke backfires horribly and affects the whole school, including the twins themselves. Instead of love spreading about the school a very unhealthy dose of hate goes around. Oliver Wood costars!
1. Choosing a Suitable Candidate

A/N: This is my first ever Harry Potter fic so please be gentle when reviewing. I love Fred and George but my all time favourite character has to be Oliver Wood =) This is set in Chamber of Secrets.  
  
* * *  
  
"George!" hissed Fred Weasley, poking his lump of a brother who was still under layers of blankets, "We've got to find the right love charm to use . . ."  
  
All he received was a yawn and a muffled, "George is not in right now, please leave a message after this tone . . . *beep* . . . "  
  
"Get up, George, you lazy git!" Fred snapped, ripping the covers off his twin brother. George's hands immediately flew to his eyes from the sudden burst of light they received.  
  
Fred smirked slightly and said, "The crack of dawn - the perfect time to cast a love charm."  
  
George groaned. "The crack of dawn? You're just as bad as Wood . . ."  
  
"Come ON," Fred persisted, grabbing his brother and hauling him out of the bed. Unfortunately, George began rather entangled in the bed sheets causing him to stumble and land on the floor with a loud crash.  
  
"Why couldn't the perfect time to cast a love charm be in the middle of the day when I'm actually awake?!" George groaned again.  
  
Fred ignored him. "Come on. We've got work to do . . ."  
  
* * *  
  
"Who shall we inflict eternal embarrassment upon?" asked George mischievously as he looked at the book Fred was holding open.  
  
After rooting in the library (something the twins rarely did) for the best part of half an hour, they had finally found out how to cast the love charm they wanted. It was called "Cupid's Arrow" and was guaranteed to make whichever two people it hit first fall wildly head over heels in love with each other. They would be completely ga-ga for one another and wouldn't have eyes for anyone else.  
  
School had been getting boring for Fred and George. Practical jokes just weren't what they used to be. This is why, they decided, that a nice and healthy love charm would brighten the place up a treat.  
  
"How about Oliver Wood?" suggested Fred, answering George's earlier question and smirking at the thought of getting revenge upon the Quidditch Captain who insisted they practise through sun, sleet, rain, fog and snow at unheard of hours in the first lights of dawn.  
  
"Yeah, that would be good," agreed George, still looking thoughtful. "Percy!" He burst out.  
  
"My name's FRED," corrected Fred, looking a little insulted to say the least. George rolled his eyes. "I mean we can cast the charm on Percy. It'll be historic."  
  
Fred joined in with George's snickers at the thought of their older and prudish prefect brother acting like an idiot over a girl.  
  
"I don't think Percy even knows what a girl is," Fred grinned, after the sniggering had died down.  
  
"Or even better - Snape!" suggested George, barely able to keep the wide smirk off his face.  
  
"McGonnagall," added Fred, an impish glint in his eye.  
  
"Marcus Flint," said George, with the same growing sparkle in his eyes.  
  
"Draco Malfoy," said Fred, an evil smile stretching from ear to ear.  
  
"Spoilt for choice, really," said George, bursting into guffaws again.  
  
Suddenly, Ron's owl Errol fluttered through the library looking a little lost. It headed for a window, misjudged the distance and crashed into the wall beside it and dazed, flew out of the window on his way to the owlery.  
  
"Bloody bird hasn't got any sense of direction," muttered Fred, shaking his head.  
  
A light bulb switched on in George's head with a 'ting' as he watched Ron's owl fly away. His eyes flashed as the idea formed in his head and a wicked smile turned up the corners of his mouth.  
  
Fred noted his twin's reverie. It must've been the twin vibes they shared because soon, he had thought of exactly the same idea.  
  
"Our little brother, Ron," they said together, a pair of identical smirks evident.  
  
* * * 


	2. Nasty Little Charms

A/N: Thanx for reviews and esp. to Love4Longshanks for backing me all the way!!!  
  
* * *  
  
Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were making their way (very slowly) to double Potions with the Slytherins.  
  
"Urgh, the first lesson on a Monday morning has to be with the Slytherins and Snape," groaned Ron, gazing dejectedly at his broken wand.  
  
"Just ignore them, Ron," said Hermione briskly, quickening her pace, "Come on, we don't want to be late."  
  
Harry looked at Ron. They both rolled their eyes. This was a very typically- Hermione thing to do.  
  
Unbeknownst to Hermione and Ron, two grinning figures (identically alike in every way) stood in the shadows watching them.  
  
"Say the incantation," whispered George.  
  
Fred aimed his wand at Ron and Hermione, careful that it wasn't going to hit Harry as well, and began the charm, "Cupid's arrow can do harm, make this spell work like a charm." And a silver jet sprouted out of the end of Fred's wand towards Ron and Hermione.  
  
Harry noticed the forthcoming spell and shouted in alarm. "Ron! Hermione! Watch out!"  
  
It was too late; both students were knocked back against the stone wall and fell to the floor gasping for breath.  
  
Harry rushed over to his two friends, whom were both holding their stomachs.  
  
"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly.  
  
"Can't talk . . ." gasped Ron, "Breath knocked out of me . . ."  
  
Harry nodded and began to help them up. Hermione accepted Harry's hand, dusting herself off crossly and looking around for the culprit.  
  
"It was probably Malfoy," said Ron angrily, once he had recovered, "It's like him to stoop low - attacking people when they are unaware and unarmed."  
  
Meanwhile, Fred and George were totally bewildered. They hadn't meant to send Hermione and Ron crashing back into the wall. The spell should have enveloped them in a pink haze and enchanted them.  
  
"It didn't work," said Fred, suppressing the urge to curse.  
  
"You must have said the incantation wrong," said George.  
  
"No, I said it right," insisted Fred, and he began to recite exactly what he said, "Cupid's arrow can do harm -"  
  
"That's wrong! You're supposed to say 'Cupid's arrow can do NO harm'," hissed George, "no wonder the spell backfired and hit them like a curse."  
  
Fred stared wide-eyed at his brother, speechless for once but he regained himself quickly. "Well it can't do much more harm now, can it?"  
  
As soon as he said the fateful words, irony kicked in and Hermione spun on her heel to face Harry. "How could I have been so stupid? There's no one else down here but you, Ron and me . . . I can't believe you did that to us Harry!" her eyes shone angrily.  
  
Ron suddenly looked ferocious as well. "Yeah, now that I think about it - you are the only one within range to get a good shot at us."  
  
Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Me? You think I cursed you??"  
  
"Do you see anyone else here?" snapped Hermione.  
  
"It wasn't me!" shouted Harry, it was now his turn to become angry, "And if I did think about cursing you it would've been with a much stronger spell than that!"  
  
Hermione and Ron gasped. "So now you're admitting to wanting to curse us!"  
  
"I didn't say that . . ." protested Harry, but the damage was already done.  
  
"Yes you did!" Ron shook his head, "I can't believe we ever became friends, Harry."  
  
"Yeah, let's go and find our real friends," Hermione said to Ron, but gazed meaningfully at Harry, "who DON'T want to try and curse us!"  
  
Harry was shocked beyond words. How could his best friends think that he wanted to hurt them? But Harry was too angry to give this question a rational answer.  
  
"This means war!" he shouted after his two retreating "friends."  
  
Meanwhile, Fred and George had watched the scene unfold with barely disguised astonishment.  
  
"George?" said Fred, eyes still glued to Harry's receding form, "They didn't say anything about this on the label!"  
  
* * * 


	3. Enemies become Friends

A/N: I know I've taken ages writing this chapter but here it is . . .oh yeah, thanx for reviews!  
  
"It's only affected Harry, Hermione and Ron," said Fred to George as they hurried down the corridor, "It can't spread to the rest of the school, can it?"  
  
George arched an eyebrow in response. But before he could voice his opinion on the matter, someone from behind called them.  
  
"Oi! Weasleys!" it was Oliver Wood, the handsome Quidditch captain and keeper for Gryffindor. He started toward them, stopping beside George. "Uh, hello...Fred?" he said apprehensively, then nodded at Fred, "And George?"  
  
Fred and George sighed. Wood was forever getting them mixed up. They pointed at each other and corrected him.  
  
"Fred," said George, pointing at Fred.  
  
"George," said Fred, pointing at George.  
  
"Whatever," Oliver dismissed it away with a wave of his hand, "OK, listen up - the match against Slytherin is only a week away. I want you at practise today ON TIME." He looked at them meaningfully, "I have a few new tactics which I would like to discuss."  
  
Fred and George could barely suppress their groans of disappointment. 'A few new tactics' when it came to Oliver Wood meant an hour or two of listening to countless tricky strategic flying and attacking positions while accompanied by a board swarming with wriggling lines.  
  
"Uh . . .wouldn't miss that for the world, Oliver," Fred forced a smile, "But must dash, don't want to be late for um . . ." he looked at George for help.  
  
"For lunch," George supplied, then pushed his twin and began scurrying away.  
  
"Wait!" Oliver called after them, "while we have time, we could start discussing strategies for winning right now!"  
  
This made the twins break into a sprint.  
  
* * *  
  
"I wouldn't sit next to him if I were you," Hermione warned Neville Longbottom who was currently about to sit at the table next to Harry, "you might be hit by a curse." She scowled at Harry and tossed her bushy hair over her shoulder.  
  
Neville glanced from Harry to Hermione, half-confused and half-worried.  
  
Harry glared daggers at Hermione. "I never cursed you, Hermione. But I'm beginning to wish I had now."  
  
Draco Malfoy, who was walking past, overheard the comment with surprise and amusement. "Potter, did I just hear you correctly?"  
  
"Yes," Harry answered coolly, still glaring at Hermione; "People who deserve to get cursed always are in the end."  
  
Hermione gasped, absolutely furious. "Is that a threat, Harry?"  
  
"I'd like to call it an accurate prediction," Harry crossed his arms and smirked at the seething girl.  
  
Draco was watching the scene unfold with delight. "Potter, there might be hope for you yet," he smiled, sliding next to Harry while elbowing Neville out of the way.  
  
Harry smiled, then smirked again at Hermione who wore a look of pure disgust. "Of course, it only seems right that you would stoop to hanging around with the low of the low. Since that is what you have become now."  
  
At this point, Fred and George had entered the Great Hall (after making a successful escape from Oliver) and had come to a standstill while watching the transaction between Harry and Hermione.  
  
George watched Hermione storm off and Fred noticed how Harry was eating and conversing with . . .DRACO!  
  
"Harry - what are you playing at?" Fred hissed at the younger boy.  
  
"What do you mean, Weasley?" Harry scowled, pronouncing Fred's last name like a bad taste in his mouth.  
  
"Forget it," said Fred, frustrated. Their "love charm" had just turned two mortal enemies into friends.  
  
"I'm beginning to wish we'd never cast that bloody thing," George muttered, frowning at Draco, "I seem to have lost my appetite. I can't eat with a Slytherin polluting the table."  
  
"Let's head back to the common room, I have a supply of toffees in our dormitory," Fred said, leading the way.  
  
Just as they got to the painting of the Fat Lady in her pink dress, a series of shrieking sounded from the other side of the portrait. Fred and George looked at each other in confusion. George quickly said the password and the portrait swung open to let them in.  
  
Fred's mouth dropped open as he peered into the Common Room. George stared, eyes wide. They couldn't believe what they saw.  
  
* * *  
  
A/N: Hehe cliffhanger!! 


	4. Dysfunctional Chasers

A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger in the last chapter *looks down in shame* but I tried not to take too long in getting this new chapter up! So, hopefully you can all forgive me! Thanx for reviews =)  
  
*~*~*  
  
The scene was chaotic. The room looked as though it had been ripped apart by a sweeping tornado and in the midst of it, Fred and George could just make out the arguing figures of Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell, all Chasers for Gryffindor.  
  
"I can't believe we were ever best friends!" shrieked Angelina at the other two girls, waving her wand about threateningly.  
  
"Yeah, what a mistake that was!" yelled Alicia, her voice an equally feverish pitch.  
  
"Don't EVER expect me to talk to either of you again - we are through being mates!" Katie held up her wand, as if she were about to attack her fellow Chasers.  
  
"Well, that's fine with me!" Angelina shouted, eyes flashing, "If I never see you both again it would be too soon. Why don't you bugger off into Slytherin - you're sure to fit in there!"  
  
Fred and George couldn't believe what they were hearing. These girls were supposed to be the greatest of friends - they never let anyone say a bad word against one another.  
  
Alicia and Katie gasped. "Take that back!" screamed Alicia, she raised her wand and was about to curse Angelina when George thought now would be a good time to intervene. He swooped in, holding Alicia's arm back and grabbing the wand off her. "Have you girls been at the sugar again?" he asked, raising a delicate eyebrow.  
  
"Give it back!" Alicia shrilled, snatching for the wand furiously. George held it up way out of the fuming girl's reach. "Not until you calm down," he said, looking at Fred to back him up.  
  
"Yes, what's cursing each other going to solve?" Fred looked from Angelina to Alicia to Katie.  
  
"It'd make me feel better for one," said Katie, crossing her arms.  
  
"But you're all best friends," said George desperately, "together you make the best team."  
  
All three girls looked sullen. "Not anymore," they chorused together.  
  
"Real friends wouldn't steal from each other," Angelina glowered at Katie.  
  
Katie wore an equally livid expression. "Real friends wouldn't accuse others of what they haven't a clue about," she then looked at Alicia angrily, "and REAL friends wouldn't try to blame it on others."  
  
"Real friends wouldn't stoop to lying so that they look the better person," Alicia shot straight back, she turned her attention to Angelina, "and real friends would never try to get attention by crying wolf."  
  
All three girls glared irately at each other, they crossed their arms, pursed their lips and refused to say anything more.  
  
By now Fred and George were completely baffled. "So, let me get this straight," Fred started tentatively, "Angelina thinks Katie has stolen something from her-"  
  
"Yes, my gold bracelet," Angelina interrupted, "and I KNOW she took it!"  
  
"Oh please! If I were ever going to steal anything it certainly wouldn't be that tacky thing," Katie grimaced.  
  
"And Katie, you say you didn't take it," Fred tried again, "you think Alicia blamed you?"  
  
"Yes she did! Right in front of me," Katie glared across at the dark-haired girl, "Probably didn't want to admit it was her so she pointed the finger at me instead."  
  
"I didn't say anything of the sort!" said Alicia indignantly; "I only asked Angelina if she'd asked you if you knew where it was."  
  
"I know what you were implying!" Katie shrieked crossly.  
  
"BACK to the matter at hand, girls," George cut in quickly before mayhem broke loose again, "And so, Alicia, you think Katie is lying-"  
  
"Yes, blatantly, so that she looks like the innocent party throughout all this," Alicia butted in, her eyes narrowed, "and I also think Angelina has made the whole thing about someone stealing her bracelet up so she can get attention as per usual."  
  
"What do you mean as per usual?!" Angelina exploded. Fred could swear he saw tiny wisps of smoke trailing out of her ears.  
  
"You heard me," Alicia crossed her arms, "Is the truth too hard to take in, Angelina?"  
  
"Why, you little -" Angelina shrieked, lunging toward Alicia. Fred and George both jumped to restrain her, holding their Chaser back as she screamed murderously, "Let me at her! She deserves what's coming to her!"  
  
"Oh, I'm so scared," Alicia rolled her eyes.  
  
Katie sighed loudly. "You both are so immature. Why don't you just grow up?" And with that, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the Common Room.  
  
Angelina finally broke loose from Fred and George, as a fresh surge of anger coursed through her. "That's the first sensible thing Katie has said all day," she sneered at Alicia, "so why don't you take her advice and grow up? But, I won't hold my breath. It'll never happen."  
  
Alicia let out of a cry of frustration. "Urgh, why did I ever become friends with you? It was obviously one big waste of time!"  
  
Both girls were now stood so close their tips of their noses were almost touching, they both glared for a few more minutes, looking as though they were going to start a boxing match, before finally spinning around and stalking off in different directions.  
  
Fred and George winced as they heard two doors slam angrily. George called after the two girls weakly, "Don't forget Quidditch practise today . . ."  
  
*~*~* 


	5. How can we play Quidditch now?

A/N: Thanks so much for reviews!! They make me smile =)  
  
*~*~*  
  
"Right, is everyone present and correct? Excellent. Then I shall begin," Oliver Wood stood up straighter; the wild spark in his eye grew as he surveyed his carefully planned board of stationary lines. The aforementioned wildness in his eyes only occurred when he was about to go into depth on Quidditch strategies and plans. He tapped the board with his wand and at once the lines came to life and wriggled their way around the board like red and yellow worms.  
  
Oliver studied the diagram carefully, tapping his chin with his finger. Something was wrong. Aha! He flicked his wand expertly and sent a yellow line curving in the other direction. With a nod, he was satisfied that his board was perfect. He set about explaining it to his team.  
  
"Angelina, this is your line of defence," Oliver pointed to a red line swooshing across the board to where the Slytherin hoops were drawn, "If a Slytherin Chaser gets in your way I have located Alicia and Katie to either side of you for an easy pass."  
  
Oliver looked up when he received no answer. Angelina, Alicia and Katie were sitting with their backs to each other, arms crossed and expressions sulky.  
  
"For the love of Merlin, what on Earth is the problem women?! I am explaining very crucial plays here," Oliver said impatiently.  
  
"Ask Angelina and Alicia, THEY are the ones with the problem," said Katie.  
  
This invoked two gasps of fury and shouts of protest.  
  
Oliver watched, shocked, as all three Chasers stood up and started shouting threats at each other.  
  
Fred and George sat quietly, studying their hands, feeling ever so slightly guilty it was their fault that the Chasers were arguing. Harry just looked bored.  
  
"SILENCE!" Boomed Oliver. All three girls stopped mid-yelling and looked at the Quidditch Captain.  
  
"Would somebody mind telling me what is going on?" Oliver asked, his Scottish accent hinted an undertone of irritation.  
  
"It's nothing, Oliver, really," George spoke up before the girls could start blaming each other again, "Why don't we just go and play out the new moves on the pitch?"  
  
"Right," Oliver agreed immediately, twitching with anticipation and grabbing his broom. If there was one thing he loved more than explaining complicated Quidditch manoeuvres it was carrying them out up in the air.  
  
"Onward, men!" he led the way out onto the pitch.  
  
"And women!" cried Angelina, Alicia and Katie indignantly, before glaring at each other again and looking away.  
  
"And women," sighed Oliver, then muttered, "bloody complicated species."  
  
Soon, everyone had positioned themselves up on the pitch in the air. Everyone except Harry. He had spotted Draco coming towards him, with Crabbe and Goyle.  
  
Oliver also spotted Draco, a dangerously dark look crossed his handsome features and he swooped down to the ground angrily.  
  
"Potter! What are you doing with HIM?!" Oliver yelled furiously, "associating with the rival Seeker . . .why, it's . . .it's blasphemy!!"  
  
Harry yawned, bored. "I'd watch the way you talk to me, Wood. You wouldn't want to lose your star Seeker now, would you?"  
  
Oliver's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets with shock and rage. "What is wrong with you today, Potter? I want those Slytherins off the pitch NOW - I am not tolerating spies lurking around." He looked suspiciously at the smirking Slytherins.  
  
"They'll go. But only when I've finished speaking to Malfoy," Harry crossed his arms, looking Oliver right in the eye.  
  
Oliver, too stunned and angry to say anything he would regret later, kicked furiously at the ground with his heel and swooped back up into the air.  
  
Fred and George flew across to him. "What happened?" Fred asked, looking nervously at Oliver's livid expression.  
  
"Grrrrrrrrrr," was all Oliver could manage, his teeth clenched tightly.  
  
"Oh dear," George stated, translating Oliver's response as not good. He exchanged looks with Fred and mouthed, "We've got to find the counter- curse." Fred nodded in reply, still looking at Oliver anxiously.  
  
The sixth-year looked as though he was going to snap his broom in two. He suddenly exploded. "I'm not having this! The game with Slytherin is only a WEEK away! One bloody week!! How are we going to win if our Seeker is in league with their Seeker and all our Chasers have started a war with each other?!" He held his head in his hands and wailed, "once again - the Cup is going to be snatched cruelly out of my reach!"  
  
Fred and George couldn't help but feel sorry for poor Wood. Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup for seven (A/N: I'm not entirely sure this is right!) years running and Oliver had desperately wanted to be the one to break the unlucky streak and lead his team to victory.  
  
Feeling very guilty, the twins watched helplessly, as their team Chasers refused to pass the Quaffle to each other while their Captain tried to hang himself from the Quidditch hoops.  
  
*~*~* 


	6. Chaos in the Corridor

A/N: Sorry it's taken so long for me to upload another chapter but here it finally is and it's a bit longer than my other chapters so enjoy and don't forget to leave reviews!! Thanx =)  
  
*~*~*~*  
  
"I can't believe what you've done! It's ruined!" Parvati Patil had come stomping into the Great Hall, shrieking furiously at her best friend Lavender Brown. She threw down some pink dress robes on the table; "You borrowed my favourite robes again WITHOUT asking! AND you spilt pumpkin juice on them!"  
  
Lavender stared up, wide-eyed, at her friend whilst turning pink. "I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd mind me borrowing them," she mumbled, aware that half the table had stopped eating and was now watching them.  
  
"They're ruined, thanks to you!" Parvati yelled, "I hope you're happy. We are no longer friends, Lavender Brown!"  
  
Lavender's eyes flashed angrily. "Yeah? Well, who would want to be friends with an drama queen like you?"  
  
Fred and George sighed. That was the twelfth argument they had seen breaking up friendships that day.  
  
"Did you have any luck in the library?" Fred asked his twin.  
  
George sighed. "There was nothing. No reversal spells or anything; I couldn't even find out how long this curse will last for."  
  
"Snooping around Snape's potion cupboard was equally fruitless," Fred propped his elbows on the table and held his head with his hands, "What are we going to do?"  
  
"I don't know, but we better do something fast. The teachers are bound to notice something up with everyone sooner or later," George eyed two second- year boys Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, sat across from him, arguing about whether Qudditch or Muggle Football was the better sport. Eventually, Dean got up, shouting something about Seamus being a narrowed-minded buffoon and strode off angrily.  
  
"I don't think I can take much more of this," George whispered to Fred, "Guilt is not usually something I experience too often."  
  
Fred nodded his head in reply, before spotting the twins' friend Lee Jordan coming over to sit with them. "Oh no, look!" hissed Fred, motioning wildly at their approaching friend. George turned and saw Lee; he was about to happily beckon him over when Fred grabbed his hand. "No, we can't!"  
  
"Why not?" George was confused at his twins' sudden strange behaviour.  
  
"If we stay around Lee too long he might start an argument with us just like everyone else under the spell and if we don't find a counter-curse we could end up never speaking to him again!" Fred said melodramatically and began to yank George to his feet, "Come on!"  
  
George turned to run after his brother, feeling horrible for trying to ignore the look of hurt on Lee's face as he watched them speed off.  
  
* * *  
  
Later, in the Gryffindor Common Room, all was extremely quiet and deserted. It seemed no-one wanted to face their old best friends and were avoiding them by going up to bed early or taking a sudden interest in an after- school activity with their new friends. Fred and George sat tensely in their usual chairs by the window playing Exploding Snap although neither was properly focused on their game.  
  
There was only a hand-full more people in the room. Oliver Wood was sat in one corner; hunched over some Quidditch owl order catalogues so he could check out the newest racing brooms.  
  
Neville Longbottom was sitting quietly near the fire and tending to his pet toad, Trevor, who he had accidentally turned into a squirrel earlier in the day. Trevor still had a big bushy grey tail sprouting out of his back and tufty triangular ears.  
  
A few first-years sat grouped on cushions, talking quietly so Percy Weasley would not look over and give them reprimanding looks. He claimed their chatter was spoiling his concentration while he busily jotted something down on parchment.  
  
Deciding that something livelier might be happening away from the common room, Fred and George heaved a sigh, packed away their game and exited through the porthole. No sooner had they set foot out of the common room than an angry shriek met their ears painfully.  
  
Fred winced as he felt his eardrums burst. "I don't like the sound of that..."  
  
Intrigued, George was already heading down the corridor in the direction of the shriek; it was then that he noticed the group of second-years in front of him.  
  
Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were on one side, whilst Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter were on the other. Hermione was on her knees, cradling some charred books in her arms and shrieking at Harry, while tears glimmered at the corners of her eyes.  
  
"What's going on here?" asked George.  
  
Ron waved his wand about angrily. "They - HE -" he spluttered furiously, pointing at Harry, "burnt Hermione's books to a cinder!"  
  
"A retaliation to YOUR childish prank, Weasley, let me remind you," Draco spoke up, glowering.  
  
"Turning you temporarily into rats is nothing compared to what you've done to my books!" yelled Hermione from the floor, then she whispered tearfully, "these were my prized Professor Lockhart books. He signed them specially..."  
  
This was all too much for Harry and Draco who burst into full-scale guffawing while Hermione went red with anger.  
  
"That's it!" screamed Ron, who's face was already an unhealthy post-box red, raising his wand ready to strike.  
  
George quickly swiped it out of his little brother's reach. "Oh, we don't want a replay of what happened last time, do we?" he looked meaningfully at Ron. The last time the younger Weasley had tried to curse Malfoy it had backfired because of his broken wand and cursed him instead.  
  
"You're on their side, aren't you?" Ron stared at George in disbelief.  
  
"I wouldn't blame him if he was," Harry spoke for the first time since George being there.  
  
"I'm not on anyone's side," George said in exasperation.  
  
Suddenly, from out of nowhere Snape swooped down upon the group of students, leaving a trail of shadow in his wake.  
  
"What is the meaning of this little congregation?" he drawled slowly, eyeing Hermione, Ron, Draco and Harry while finally settling his gaze on George, expecting an answer.  
  
"Weasley and Granger here were causing the trouble, sir," said Harry, in an almost perfect imitation of Malfoy. Snape turned to him. Ever since befriending Draco and turning on his own friends, Harry had become very well tolerated by the Slytherin professor.  
  
"Everyone back to their dormitories," drawled Snape then eyed Ron and Hermione, "10 points from Gryffindor for lingering in the hallway and causing a fuss."  
  
Ron and Hermione could only make goldfish expressions in response. "B-but Sir!" Hermione was the first to find her voice, "Draco was lingering in the hallway too - surely, points should be taken off Slytherin as well-"  
  
"Silence, Miss Granger," Snape narrowed his eyes dangerously, "Or I shall take the great pleasure in doubling the amount of points Gryffindor will lose."  
  
Hermione shut her mouth with an angry snap and began to fume.  
  
"Professor Snape!" came the unmistakable voice of Professor Gilderoy Lockhart; "An urgent staff meeting has just been called - thought you'd like to know." Professor Lockhart came to a sliding standstill, his turquoise, lavender and emerald robes swirling, while smiling cheerily at Snape's murderous face.  
  
"Thank you, Professor Lockhart," Snape could barely disguise the venom in his voice as he spat out his words.  
  
"Not at all, old boy," Professor Lockhart said, heartily slapping Snape on the back, foolishly oblivious to the looks of pure loathing he was receiving, "The behaviour of the students has been very odd lately, investigating must be done. That is why I decided to call a meeting."  
  
George shuffled awkwardly, looking intensely at the ground.  
  
"Right," Snape hissed in irritation, "we had better go then." He cast a beady eye to the students, "And that means you too."  
  
"Ah, Harry," Lockhart suddenly caught sight of the second year and winked, "up to mischief again are we?"  
  
Harry crossed his arms in response.  
  
"I blame myself," Lockhart said dramatically, almost sounding regretful, "after all, I was the one to give you your first taste of stardom and now you try to get attention whenever you can." He sighed woefully and began to follow suit of Snape who had tried to make a hasty head start before his colleague could catch up.  
  
By now, George had a niggling sensation of panic rising in his throat. An emergency staff meeting? Investigating the strange behaviour of the students . . .the penalty would be severe if the person (or persons) causing the chaos was found out. George gulped. He didn't want to think what might happen to him or Fred for that matter. But then again, he had already experienced a million and one different punishments from various different teachers across the school (including Filch). What could they make him do that was worse than cleaning out the slimy, pus-filled creatures Snape liked to keep as pets? Or getting up earlier than the usual Quidditch practise sessions to polish every single square inch of the prefect badges and trophies (kept in their own special part of the trophy room)?  
  
The sounds of the second years before him broke George momentarily from his train of thought. He saw that Crabbe and Goyle had now joined Malfoy, standing behind him as the usually did, gormless expressions evident.  
  
Malfoy seemed unusually irritated with the pair of bulky Slytherins, rolling his eyes at Harry to show his annoyance at their appearance.  
  
"Don't you both have anything better to do than follow me around like the brainless idiots you are?" he sneered.  
  
Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other in intense bewilderment while shrugging their shoulders at their 'friend'.  
  
"You have no right to call anyone a brainless idiot, Malfoy," Hermione shot at him crossly, then eyed Crabbe and Goyle, "EVEN if they ARE, but that's beside the point."  
  
"Well, if you're so worried about their feelings why don't you form your own little gang? And leave us well out of it," Harry spat venomously at Hermione and Ron, "Misery loves company after all."  
  
Ron's eyes flashed, his forehead was bright red from fuming. "Yeah? Well, maybe we will, POTTER."  
  
With that, Hermione, Ron, Crabbe and Goyle departed in one direction down the corridor whilst Harry and Draco slithered away down the other, leaving behind a gob-smacked George.  
  
He had never thought he would have lived to see the day when fellow Gryffindors were teaming up with devious Slytherins. Of course he knew it was partly his fault but at least he was trying to find a counter-curse. Which was more than could be said for Fred who George seemed to have lost.  
  
Shaking his head, George headed off in search of his twin who had no doubt been caught up in an adventure of his own.  
  
* * * 


	7. Poor poor Oliver

A/N: Thanx for reviews! They're great; very encouraging =) Poor Oliver is having a tough time of it in this chapter . . .  
  
*~*~*~*  
  
Oliver Wood had called his team together for an Emergency Meeting out on the Quidditch pitch. This only occurred when something was desperately wrong... which of course, was the case.  
  
"Listen, you lot," Oliver began, trying to grasp the right words to project to his uninterested audience. "The last Quidditch Practise was . . . well," he swallowed painfully, "it was . . .horrendous."  
  
He tried to give his team a look of authority. "I never want to see play like that again," he crossed his arms.  
  
"Chasers," he barked at the three girls, "If you aren't going to co-operate OFF the field, I am commanding you to do so ON the field and I want NO arguments."  
  
All three girls looked up at him with three perfect scowls.  
  
"Not in this life time," said Angelina.  
  
"You can forget it," muttered Alicia.  
  
"I'd rather lick a dead seal," declared Katie.  
  
Oliver tried not to look disgusted at the thought of licking a dead seal, but decided to ignore their comments and concentrate on the next issue at hand.  
  
"Potter," he glanced at the pre-teen, "I do not want you collaborating OUR Quidditch tactics with Malfoy. Do you WANT us to lose?"  
  
Harry just glared at Wood sulkily.  
  
Oliver then turned his attention to . . . the twins. He was puzzled. They had been so quiet lately - no acting up or tomfoolery, just a set of identical boys sitting silently while sometimes conversing in hushed whispers.  
  
"Weasleys," Oliver called to them and once he had captured their attention, he was at a loss at what to say since they had been behaving perfectly for once, "Umm...just keep up the good work, won't you?"  
  
This made Fred and George flush guiltily and they bowed their heads solemnly, sending Oliver into further bafflement. He shook his head. He had long given up trying to understand the workings of the Twins' minds.  
  
"Anyway," he continued, "I want you all to follow the instructions I've given you and MAYBE . . ." here Oliver bit his lip, "we MIGHT be able to salvage the dignity of Gryffindor by a respectable win."  
  
"NOTHING could ever salvage the dignity of Gryffindor, Wood," came a sneering voice, "let alone you lot gaining a 'respectable' win."  
  
Oliver clenched his fists. "Flint," he said through grit teeth, not even having to turn round.  
  
"Having some trouble with the old team, eh Wood?" Marcus Flint's mocking voice drove Oliver to turn and glare indignantly at him. He instantly wished he hadn't since the sight of Flint's disgusting yellow buckteeth was sickening.  
  
The rest of the Slytherin Team was behind Flint, all broad, burly (with the exception of Malfoy) adolescent males clad in emerald robes.  
  
"Sticking your incredibly prominent teeth in where they're not wanted, once again, Flint?" snapped Oliver.  
  
"Oliver, if your Emergency Meeting is over now, I'd like to go and finish my Charms homework," Alicia interrupted, then cast a look around her in disdain, "plus, any excuse is good enough to get away from the riffraff they let into this school nowadays."  
  
Oliver counted to two, knowing exactly what was going to come next. Right on cue, Katie shot back, "Huh, that's rich coming from you. Better to be riffraff than a good-for-nothing liar!" she glanced sideways at Angelina, "or a melodramatic attention seeker."  
  
"Oh everyone better shut up, Little Miss 'Holier-than-thou' is speaking," Angelina said sarcastically, throwing Katie an incredibly dirty look and then turning to Alicia, "As for you - you're one to talk!"  
  
Oliver caught sight of Flint's taunting expression and restrained the impulse to grind his knuckles into the Slytherin Captain's trollish face.  
  
Eventually the chaos behind Oliver ended with each Chaser stalking off in different directions.  
  
"Oh, Wood, that Cup is as good as mine this year," Flint grinned, teeth once again on display, "Your team seems a bit...emotionally dysfunctional. Why don't you save yourself the embarrassment and forfeit early from the match? That way you can keep this dignity you seem to think Gryffindor has," Marcus sniggered nastily, setting off a chorus of "ha ha ha's" from his fellow team-mates.  
  
"Expect a fight, Flint," spat Oliver, "Gryffindor are not backing out."  
  
Flint leant his ugly face horribly near Oliver's. "Your funeral, Wood," he leered, then snapped his fingers for the whole Slytherin team to follow him.  
  
Harry ran after them, shouting loudly how he wished he could be on their team.  
  
"My life is over!" Oliver threw himself down on the ground desperately, his head in his hands.  
  
Fred and George glanced at each-other, then went to pull Oliver up from the pitiful way he was slumped on the grass.  
  
"Listen, Ollie," said Fred; "Flint and Slytherin could never stand a chance of winning against Gryffindor. It's like you always say -"  
  
"We are obviously the quickest, strongest and smartest team out there," finished George, quoting Oliver off perfectly.  
  
"Not when my team is in ruins!" howled Oliver; "we can't be the quickest, strongest and smartest if no-one on the team is talking to each-other!"  
  
George sighed. "There, there, Oliver," he glanced desperately at Fred for what to say next, but instead settled for patting Oliver on the head in what was supposed to be a comforting manner, causing Oliver to wince and pull his pounding head out of reach.  
  
"It's no use being useless yourself, Oliver," said Fred, "the last thing we need is for you to go mental as well."  
  
But Oliver seemed to be beyond consolation. "The Cup!" he wailed, "The glory of winning the Cup has disappeared once again!" And here he slumped back onto the floor for the second time.  
  
"He was already mental, Fred, remember?" George arched an eyebrow in his brother's direction; "Unfortunately, there was never any helping him."  
  
* * * 


	8. It gets Worse

A/N: Sorry for the delay everyone!! *hangs head in shame* but here is the next chapter finally, hope you enjoy it!! And once again thanks x 100000 for reviews - they brighten my day! And thanx to Love4Longshanks and Rach for believing in this story . . .*begins to blub* it wouldn't be possible without you guys!! Hehehehe, here you go...  
  
*~*~*  
  
The situation with the Chasers had gone from bad to worse to absolutely catastrophic in a matter of days. Take the most recent Quidditch practise for example.  
  
Every team player was up in the air warming up (Fred and George couldn't understand why Oliver STILL insisted on training even though he knew his team was going to be slaughtered), when a sudden shriek of horror pierced through the air.  
  
The shriek had sounded from Katie who was clutching her hand to her chest and wobbling dangerously on her broom. Oliver called a time-out and all players flew to the pitch below.  
  
"What is it THIS time, Katie?" asked Wood, once on ground level.  
  
"I broke a nail," Katie cried mournfully.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. Alicia shook her head in disgust. Angelina muttered something about how she wished Katie had broken her neck instead of her nail. Fred and George stood quietly while Oliver could only look at Katie in disbelief. "You caused all that fuss up there for a NAIL?!"  
  
"It wouldn't have been broken if we weren't playing such a barbaric and uncivilised game," Katie snapped, waving her slightly chipped nail in front of Oliver's face.  
  
"Those are big words for you, Katie," Alicia said sarcastically, crossing her arms, "Did your new Ravenclaw friends teach you them?"  
  
It was true that ever since the falling out, Katie had made new friends with some of the Ravenclaw girls who, despite being clever and witty, were also very prim and acted as though they felt themselves to be superior to everyone else. And this is what had prompted Katie to start caring about new issues . . .such as her nails, and her hair and how muddy Quidditch made her robes.  
  
"You're one to talk, Alicia," Katie glowered, "It made sense that you were sad enough to go and join up with Hufflepuffs."  
  
Alicia flushed red with anger and embarrassment. She shot a look in Angelina's way as she let out a giggle at Katie's remark, then watched as Angelina gave a shy wave to Marcus Flint who had just entered the pitch.  
  
"And I suppose YOUR new friends are any better?" Alicia narrowed her eyes in the direction of Flint and hissed at Angelina, "Traitor!"  
  
Angelina had taken an unusual fancy (which nobody could quite figure out why) to Marcus Flint and had gradually become besotted with the Slytherin Captain.  
  
"There is NOTHING wrong in befriending the people that I have," Angelina said defensively, "Even if they ARE from Slytherin." Her cheeks grew pink as she noticed Flint walking over.  
  
He drew to a stop right beside Oliver and gave an infuriating smirk.  
  
"Clear OFF, Flint," Oliver growled, "We don't spy on your practises."  
  
"Who says I'm here to spy?" Flint looked over to Angelina, "Alright, Angelina?"  
  
Angelina blushed a deeper shade of crimson and giggled. "Yes thank you," she managed to stammer.  
  
Oliver groaned in disgust. Just what in the name of Merlin was happening to his team?!  
  
"So, we still on for our little . . .meeting, tonight?" Flint grinned widely, his awful teeth sticking out unpleasantly.  
  
Angelina nodded, barely able to speak.  
  
Flint smiled wickedly. "We can discuss everything from Quidditch tactics to the biology of the body."  
  
At this suggestive sentence, both Oliver and Fred shot dark glares in Flint's direction.  
  
"Don't go getting any dirty ideas, Flint," snapped Fred furiously. Flint noticed with an evil grin how protective the Weasley twin was over the Chaser.  
  
"Yes - using Angelina to swipe our Quidditch strategies is a perfect example of how double-crossing you can be," Oliver glared daggers at his rival.  
  
"I was talking more about Flint playing dirty with Angelina not Quidditch, Oliver!" said Fred in exasperation.  
  
Oliver blinked. "Of course. That, too."  
  
Flint just laughed as Angelina shot two looks in Fred and Oliver's direction. "See you later," he smiled another slimy grin before slinking off.  
  
"What has got into you, Angelina??" Oliver yelled, once Flint was out of earshot, "Why Marcus Flint of ALL people?!"  
  
"That's none of your business, Oliver Wood," Angelina said hotly.  
  
"You do realise that he is only interested in you so he can get at me and the Quidditch plays I have spent all summer devising?" Oliver waved his arms around wildly to express his point.  
  
Angelina flushed angrily. "He's interested in ME! Not your pathetic Quidditch tactics. Tell me something Oliver, if these strategies are so closely guarded how come they never help us to win?"  
  
She sent a triumphant look in the direction of Oliver's speechless face, turned on her heel and began to walk heatedly away.  
  
"Being a Slytherin Quidditch groupie is highly unattractive, Angelina," Katie called after her retreating form, "Even for you!"  
  
Angelina suddenly whirled around. "I'll tell you what, Katie, it's much better than longing and pining in secret like a STUPID little girl over your Quidditch Captain who couldn't care less about you if you didn't help him win Quidditch matches."  
  
Katie's eyes filled up with tears. "How could you, Angelina?!" she yelled, not daring to look at Oliver. Oliver decided to act as if he had not heard Angelina's comment and said sternly. "I want this madness to stop right now. It's getting too far out of hand."  
  
Katie let out a half-choked sob and ran off in the direction of the changing rooms.  
  
Angelina gave a cry of frustration and strode away to the Quidditch Broom Cupboard.  
  
George felt his stomach drop horribly. What had their "Love Charm" done?  
  
*~*~* 


	9. Katie Bell's Crush

A/N: I'm sorry I kept everyone waiting for this next chapter so it's slightly longer to make up for it! Rachel, Becky – I hope you're happy now!!! Keep those reviews coming in you lovely lovely people! =) xxxxx  
  
*~*~*  
  
Fred was still looking in the direction Angelina had gone. "Angelina!" he shouted, deciding to take off after her.  
  
"I better go and see if Katie's um . . .alright," Oliver said awkwardly. He had never had to deal with this kind of thing before.  
  
Alicia waved her hand. "She's overreacting as usual. She'll be over this in the next hour."  
  
Oliver didn't look so convinced. "All the same," he pointed behind him, "I better check . . .that she hasn't done anything . . .you know, silly."  
  
"If you're talking about her slitting her throat over this Oliver, you must be stupider than you look," George laughed then silenced at the look he received. "On the other hand, better safe than sorry," he added quickly.  
  
Oliver nodded. "Will you uh . . .come with me?" he said quietly so Alicia couldn't hear.  
  
George grinned. "I'll gladly hold your hand, Ollie. Katie Bell CAN be a bit of a handful!"  
  
Alicia burst out laughing and began to walk back in the direction of the Castle. "See you girls later," she smirked.  
  
George and Oliver headed off in the other direction, to the changing rooms. "I just don't know how to handle a situation like this. It's never arisen before," Oliver sighed.  
  
"You mean the situation of someone actually fancying you, Oliver?" George looked at the Keeper with a grin.  
  
Oliver flit George upside his head with a glare. He shook his head and walked into the Changing Rooms but before he could go any further he called, "Katie! Are you decent?"  
  
George sighed. "Great way of putting her at ease."  
  
"What?!" Oliver said, bewildered.  
  
"You obviously have little experience and knowledge of the female species," George gave Oliver a superior look and took a few steps forward, "Watch and learn."  
  
The redheaded Weasley looked around and couldn't see his blond-haired friend anywhere, but he knew better. "Katie? We just want to make sure you're alright," he called into the room. But all was quiet.  
  
George turned to Oliver and said loudly. "Come on Oliver, she's either not here or she doesn't want to see anyone right now."  
  
Oliver looked at George in confusion and began to whisper. "She's definitely in here. What are you doing-?"  
  
"Sssh!" George hissed, then winked, "Just watch." He turned back round and called into the room. "If you're in here Katie, we want you to know that you can always talk to us when you feel ready, yeah?" Then he said to Oliver theatrically, "Let's go Oliver. She has obviously gone back to her dorm."  
  
Just then a small weepy voice cried out. "Wait!" it was Katie.  
  
George glanced back at Oliver, who looked marvelled. The Weasley twin grinned and mouthed. "Reverse psychology. Never fails!"  
  
"Are you alright, Katie?" Oliver said concerned, starting to walk over to the youngest Chaser, as she appeared from behind a wall that led into the toilets.  
  
Katie's face had become red and blotchy from crying while her eyes were puffy and watery. "Yes, I'm fine," she sniffed, not meeting his gaze.  
  
"Angelina was pretty out of line back on the pitch," George said, looking at Katie with a perfectly practised sympathetic face.  
  
Katie looked like she was suppressing a shudder; her face was now blushing furiously red. "Oliver, you know that Angelina was only saying that to stir things up," she squeaked out, still looking in every direction except the Keeper's face.  
  
Oliver blinked twice, looked at George and said, "Er ... right, of course."  
  
Katie sniffled and cast her gaze upon George. "You don't think she's gone and told everyone?" she asked, panic rising fast in her voice, "That would be just like Angelina – to spread nasty, malicious rumours without caring WHO gets hurt."  
  
"Nah," George shook his head, then tried to add some humour to the situation, "She's most likely gone off to snog Flint." But as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he shuddered violently at the mental imagery and wished he hadn't have said anything at all.  
  
Oliver also looked incredibly disgusted at the mere thought of Angelina with Flint, but said angrily, "You've actually hit the nail on the head Weasley. What DOES she think she's playing at? Has she COMPLETELY lost her mind? It's bad enough our Seeker is swapping crucial plays with their Seeker but now one of our Chasers is off swapping MORE than that!!" He gave a cry of frustration as he finally finished his tirade, which had obviously been bubbling away inside him wanting to be said ever-since Angelina had announced her new-found affection for Flint.  
  
"My team is going down-hill faster than a nose-diving Firebolt," the Quidditch captain groaned.  
  
"That's all you ever care about, isn't it?" Katie looked at him, her face flushing, "Your TEAM. Angelina was right – you don't give one jot about any of us unless we help you win that bloody Cup."  
  
"No, Katie, I didn't mean it to sound like that," Oliver said desperately.  
  
Katie's cheeks burned with anger and embarrassment, giving away her true feelings immediately. "If I didn't love Quidditch so much, Oliver, I would have definitely quit the team by now," she said haughtily, casting him a pointed look, "And then you'd REALLY be in trouble, wouldn't you?" She stormed across to the door and stopped, "But knowing you, Oliver Wood, since your team are nothing more than numbers I'm sure you'd find a replacement quickly."  
  
Oliver was completely dumbfounded. He had no idea that his team had felt this way about him. Was he really a heartless Quidditch-crazy monster?  
  
"Call her back, Ollie! It's obvious she fancies you," George poked him out of his thoughts and jabbed a finger in the direction of the departing girl, "Say something nice!"  
  
Oliver ran to the door and stammering, began to yell. "Katie! Come back, I don't think of you as a number at all – you're a terrific chaser! And – you're erm . . .a lovely girl and all that . . ." He faltered and looked at George desperately.  
  
"Absolutely hopeless," George sighed.  
  
"I tried my best, thank you very much," said Oliver indignantly, "It's like I said, I don't know how to deal with things like this."  
  
"Since all you ever do is bury yourself in Quidditch, mate," the red-haired boy shook his head.  
  
"Nothing wrong in having a hobby," said the Keeper defensively.  
  
"OBSESSION is the correct term in your case," George walked past his friend and patted him on the shoulder, "Don't worry, when this Chaser catastrophe is over, Fred and I will help to fix you. Find you a nice girl and everything."  
  
At that moment, Oliver developed a nervous twitch.  
  
*~*~* 


End file.
